Subversive
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"Subversive"
That woman -
she isn’t me
she
(small s)
watches me
silently
with hatred
of what
light and darkness is
unknown of me
burns in her belly
bends her knees
To the world,
all seems aglow
She, prescient?
an anagram,
1 high above
1 buried below
she is neither one
nor the other
1 high above
1 buried below
Counting numbers
children
that are not hers
poems of me
she will never know
a child missing
the essential stronghold
tries to grow her own
garden path home, lost,
a long story
for short minds
unfolds
Business as usual,
sons like the father, or not,
The read by the writer
is swiftly cropped
Summers that come fast
well past swollen Spring
and here she is in Winter
casting another spider's web,
that other woman
over dreams dreamt
and wasted time spent
of who she thinks
she really is
On a hallowed path
another woman
she meets,
stronger
than other poems
she has ever read,
the you that is me,
she thinks
she has sung and bled
Another woman,
so much stronger
subversive
in Autumn
with silence
Met
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
nm
2/8
Agnes Obel – Chord Left
https://youtu.be/bbU31JLtlug
"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."
"The True Mother"
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_true_mother_1165956/center>
Copyright © Lady Labyrinth | Year Posted 2019
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